A Book of Dust and Breath

Chapter Twenty Seven

Max sat in the well-worn green chair with a book in his hand, but his thoughts refused to focus on the lawyer trying to keep the little kid safe.

It was quarter after seven, right? Not quarter 'til?

They better have gotten the private car situated.

I wonder what Harriet thought when I told her not to call me tonight.

Two new breaches. Two! How many centuries since there had been two? Thank God they're both in fairly unpopulated areas.

It was definitely quarter after because the train leaves at 7:30. They wouldn't want us to sit there for the better part of an hour.

Whatever Delwyn told the council, it had been enough for them to let her remain with Lily. What did she tell them?

Who came up with the asinine idea of neckties anyway?

"Max?"

His attention snapped to the vision of beauty leaning against the doorframe. The silver dress left her strong arms bare and skimmed her knees. A black choker circled her long neck drawing his attention there and instilling a desire to skip dinner and spend the evening kissing that soft skin. Her lips curved up.

"You were a million miles away. Good book?" She asked.

Book? He glanced down. Oh. That book. Setting it on the table he stood and crossed to the doorway. With feather-light fingertips, he traced the line of her collarbone. "We could stay in."

She stepped backward, latching onto his fingertips and pulling him toward the door. "No way, mister. I was promised a real date. I'm holding you to it."

They climbed into the truck and bounced along the road next to the river. The leaves and thick growth hovered in between the emerald green of summer's vigor and the shocking explosion of color they'd soon offer up as fall's final farewell. A groundhog, fat on ripe seeds and veggies stolen from some farm-wife's garden waddled into the undergrowth and out of sight. The low-slung sun painted the waving sea of grain with a heavy golden brush.

On the radio, The Zombies sang about the time of the season for loving. Max hummed along. At the chorus, he cast a sideways glance at Lily. "What's your name? Who's your daddy?" He waggled his eyebrows and she laughed her enchanting laugh.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"No." He snagged the fingers of her right hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip with deliberate care.

"You're going to have to tell me at some point since I'm driving."

"You're going the right direction. I'll let you know when you need to turn." His kisses moved to the back of her palm, the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.

"I'm going to crash if you don't stop."

"I don't believe you. You've got excellent focus. You'll be fine," he said, but he released her so she could have both hands to make the final serpentine series of curves that welcomed them into the village. "Turn right at the stop sign."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What? You wanted to know which way to go."

"Everything is to the left."

"If that were the case there would be no road going to the right," he pointed out.

"Nonsense," she argued. "There are roads that lead to nowhere."